The whole loaf of forgiveness

In the Jewish tradition Fall brings new beginnings. The High Holy Days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur ring in another year, and a time to make amends – to atone for the wrongs of the past – to “wipe the slate clean”.

I’ve always thought that this makes way more sense than welcoming the new in the cold, dark of January.

Sad to say this year I missed taking part in the lovely ritual of Tashlich.

At sunset on the first night of Rosh Hashanah observant Jews gather by a body of water (preferably with fish) , pray, listen to readings and then toss crumbs of bread into the water. The crumbs represent the sins we “cast off” – to the delight of fish and resident ducks – and symbolic of cleansing our souls from our failings. We pray: Micah (7:19), “He will take us back in love; He will cover up our iniquities. You will cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.”

In my neighborhood which has a large number of Jewish families it’s quite a large crowd that gathers by the shores of our little Pond.

There’s something so satisfying about gathering with a group of people, whether you know them or not, and making public the fact that you messed up. Acknowledging the fact that we ALL mess up and want to try harder to be better people. It feels so very human. I’ve said, only half-joking, that a few crumbs definitely isn’t going to take care of my mess, I’ll need a whole loaf!

Atonement. The word could actually be at-one-ment – the desire to remove all those things that cut us off from other people, from nature, from the divine (if you so believe) – but most of all repairing those things that cut us off from ourselves, from who we truly are.

In a lighthearted and insightful way, Scott touches on his personal quirks (a persistent cough), his fears, being a former cult member, accepting his free-dancing out-0f-the closet sexuality, and forgiveness.

When it comes to love – be it “Big” or small – forgiveness hold the key.

Author Stabile has learned a lot about forgiveness from horrifying first person experience.

His parents were murdered, shot, by a gunman in their Detroit fruit market when Scott was 14. In the years that followed, feelings of grief, anger, and deep loneliness were a constant, unspoken companion. And, there was also shame. Shame that he hadn’t done more to convince his Mother to stop working in such a dangerous, crime-ridden neighborhood. Shame to reveal to his friends and classmates that he was an orphan.

Nine years later his brother died of an overdose. Shame came calling again. Was there nothing else he could have done, could have said to turn his brother around, to stop the senseless loss of his life?

Now I know what you’re probably thinking: ” What could a 14 year old have done to stop a random act of violence?” and ” An addict cannot be cajoled, reasoned, or threatened out of their addition”. On this last point I am, of course, remembering the loss of my own brother to addiction when he was 49. The feelings I carry in my heart don’t match up with what I know to be true. But there you have it – shame is not on speaking terms with reality. As a matter of fact I confess here that it pained me to upgrade to a new cell phone, holding on far longer than made sense, because that phone held the last phone message I ever got from my brother.

“Big Love” isn’t simply about making a choice to be kind, compassionate, respectful and loving. At it’s core it all comes down to forgiveness. It’s about looking clearly at all those dark scary places we’d much prefer to hide away. It’s not simply about learning to forgive the person who stole your parents away too soon, or coming to understand how little we can control in life. It’s about learning how to keep on trying to be better while still accepting that we can and will fall short by choice or chance.

No unicorns and rainbows here. No standing on a mountaintop with outstretched arms and face lifted to the sun. “Big Love” is not preachy or self-absorbed. It is simply one man’s experience, his unflinching dance with the hard work of being his best self.

So, to all my Jewish friends and co-workers: L’Shanah Tovah! And, to all my non-Jewish friends and co-workers: L’Shanah Tovah! Help yourself to a whole loaf of forgiveness and pick up a copy of “Big Love” to start the New Year right.